With The Nights
by death-in-the-orchard
Summary: Abraham Van Hellsing and his business after he has possessed Alucard for a few years, when the Hellsing organization has already been established.


note: Wordy. Playing around with the writing and experimenting...

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><p>The falling footfalls, like the heavy clapping of two hard and repelling objects that refused to keep one another for long, or two strong forces that bonded instantaneously and broke apart with a violent outburst of sound, the metal shoes on the horses struck the cobblestones and drew forward the wide wheels of the carriage that held up one driver and one passenger whose mind was split between the lamplights and the stored documents that the lights had not been strong enough to make legible. The man's golden hair was darkened with a wash of brown, dulling the striking wealth of the color with musty copper. If more light had been available, the glossy sheen of noble stature would have radiated from the man's head where in the summer he at times appeared to be crowned with an angelic halo. A heavy brown coat weighed upon his perfect posture that came to him naturally as if bestowed at birth to his frame. Black pants of a preserved crisp yet comfortable fabric obscured the man's active life, covering part of his boots that, though polished diligently by the experienced hand of a butler, still displayed signs of wear that would not be assumed from the feet of a man who held the status of a Knight and who was of such prominence and wealth at an age his face offered that told of decades of energy and motivation to come. However unlined his features, the skin that lightened as his hair darkened in the shadowed months of winter, was much older than it would betray. The azure stones that moved, reflecting the most miniscule rays of light, made any observing man a witness to the depth of the sea.<p>

The driver as a black shape before the noble, with leather bridals, metal bits, and reins leading from the steaming snouts of two horses, Abraham Van Hellsing traveled through the night towards his destination where bright light, food, voices, and the past Victorian, now Edwardian, society could be envisioned, the many memories of which brightened the gloom of the carriage with ghostly light of times gone by, faces that had aged while Van Hellsing's had aged, and faces that grew old when Van Hellsing's earned renewed youth, to appear in his early thirties when he was nearly twice the age. His appearance, his prominence, his wealth and, the depth of his eyes, were all the result of the Philosopher's Stone, the ruby fountain of youth in immortal eyes, red beyond the grasp of the natural, burning forever to pierce through any obscurity, the eyes that now opened to see the silk lining, the interior of the brown coat Van Hellsing wore, as the clapping of the hooves and stone fell away, slowing as the carriage came to a stop. The creature hidden within the man's jacket, a silent protection more deadly than the handgun the man carried with him at all times or the cane sword that leaned against his knee, was the source of the metamorphosis that had altered the man's life. The creature that wore fur about its body and wings of flesh on its arms with fangs and the short snout of a small rodent, a bat the size of a generous pebble that clung upside down in the manner of how bats in nature hang, inside Abraham Van Hellsing's coat, was a creature that had outlived the man, the style of coat, predated the Edwardian and Victorian era, and had at one point been a king and held company with the Catholic Pope. Vladislav, Vladimir, or Vlad, the names followed by Tepes, ending with the infamous Christian name that bore both the meaning of 'the Order of the Dragon' and demon, Dracula III. That was the identity of the being, the creature, its first identity that was built upon with the passing centuries that came after the mortal Vlad Tepes Dracula III had died, but now the demon the mortal had become, the Philosopher's Stone, the monster, Vampyre or vampire, the only Nosferatu, was now known as Alucard after losing his title as Count Dracula. Alucard was the bat creature that could be in any form he wished so long as his master, Van Hellsing, agreed with it. It was Van Hellsing's wish that Alucard be a bat that was to be hidden in his coat as a method of security and safekeeping. The fall of the No-Life-King had given rise to Sir Hellsing, leader of a private army that bore the Hellsing crest for the organization which battled the mythical and the undead.

Alucard, the soft stone creature with flesh wings, did not make a sound, his ruby eyes closing behind black lids when the human movement of Sir Hellsing rustled the coat while Abraham adjusted the gray scarf that was wrapped about his neck, fixing it to ward off the chill in the night air when he left the carriage to let the hard heels of his boots strike the cobblestones. Van Hellsing fixed his gloves, his eyes sweeping over the area while breath clouded from his lips in gentle tendrils, his cane in the crook of his arm, the silver head of a wolf catching where he wanted it on his arm. With a light sigh, the man went to the door where a servant was encouraging him to go. The man who might as well have been called a butler looked with shy curiosity at the bag that hung from Abraham's shoulder, made in the style of a briefcase molded from soft tan leather. It carried only documents that would be deposited with the host of the night's dinner, but without this duller knowledge, the servant's imagination contrived all sorts of purposes a bag such as this could serve for a man who wore nobility with well trodden boots. A mystery, was the youthful old man, a mystery like the changing seasons and the altering shades winter and summer brought upon the human figure.

The voices greeted Abraham with the horde of human socializing that was hardly contained by the great dinning hall in the manor he walked through. He was the last guest to arrive, but he was also the guest that the host held with the highest honor, so no excuse was necessary for no rude offence was made. Abraham Van Hellsing was a busy man. His very attendance was a gift worth his weight in precious gems and recaptured treasure. He ate and dined with his host, discussed business and politics with the head of the merchant family, gave the host the documents, explained future plans, and recounted when the host had been mentioned by the king the last time Sir Hellsing had been called to his court. Amazement and mystery bewitched his audience, though the man did not mean to be much of a spectacle. He had been an object of curiosity and gossip well before his arrival, with excitement escalating after his appearance with his observed wealth, his etiquette, his wit, and his handsome features. Abraham was a man of scandal for the moment with the growing knowledge of his membership in the Catholic Church, a membership he was revoking much like an infamous king in the past, where Hellsing was leaving Catholicism in order to divorce his legal wife. He was to be a Protestant man, a divorced man that could not be called to be part of the noblesse. He was Dutch, a 'common' doctor before he had achieved some great feat that brought him to sit with the king in his court. Female eyes were captured by the opportunity, but Van Hellsing denied them his attention in return. He was not asked to answer any of the mysteries that hung about him, through the endurance of the dinner. Now wine alone rested on the tablecloth and the host with his family, along with an associate, sat at the table, watching Sir Hellsing, waiting for the servant to close the door to the dining hall to give them their desired seclusion. A girl whose heart shaped face offered soft lips and cheeks, rosy with health and blush, and large honey colored eyes that captured shards of lavender from her skirts and ribbons, was present. Lush curls tumbled elegantly from her head, visually resembling her mother and father. She sat beside Van Hellsing, placed strategically by her mother, while her father who had hosted the dinner was seated across from Hellsing, accompanied by his wife on his left and his partner on his right. Chestnut hair covered each of their heads, a color so similar that it suggested shared blood. Hellsing was then informed that his host's associate was his father's sister's child, a cousin. Abraham nodded to show he politely accepted the information, not even looking at the cousin to ask for his name. He watched his host, waiting for the man to ask the questions that had not been appropriate to say aloud while in the company of the other guests. The girl brushed back a lock of hair, but the soft curls went unobserved by Hellsing.

The host, known as Edmund Smithson, smiled to display a set of organized teeth where only one seemed to be crooked and nodded to the wine that was supplied for every placemat at the table. "Have you enjoyed your dinner?"

Abraham was not ignorant of the suggestion to consider the wine, but he let it pass, returning a small smile and looking the man in the eye with an unwavering gaze that troubled hazel eyes. "I did. It was well cooked."

He doesn't care for small talk, Edmund smiled stiffly swallowing discreetly and then clearing his throat with a drought of wine. Now his smile loosened once more with a renewal of confidence that the fine wine brought to him. "Thank you. I hope our business together in future months, more hopefully, years, will be just as pleasant as our time tonight."

A twinge of irony quirked Van Hellsing's lips, aware of his own irritation that he had suppressed for the gossip he pretended not to overhear. He kept the smile and waited for the question that now made Mr. Smithson shift uncomfortably in his chair while his wife and cousin's eyes darkened. Only his daughter remained oblivious of what was to be confronted. She saw only hope of victory, gazing up at the man's strong jaw and brilliant eyes. She was young and she was confident in her waist and bust size as well as her sweet face.

Mr. Smithson took another sip of wine to lubricate his throat and he folded his hands in his lap, watching the blue gaze. "Your profession is hard for me to grasp, Sir Hellsing, so please excuse me for this, I do not want to seem rude, but what my impression is…is that I will be shipping material that will be melted down and used to make weapons which sole purpose is to kill…something- and this is what I cannot comprehend, because I am under the _impression_ that you kill, that what you kill…are 'monsters'?" He paused, stopped by his own incredulousness and the embarrassment he experienced for saying this aloud, because it was just _too_ absurd. He felt embarrassed for Sir Hellsing about the misunderstanding, and unease. He was uneasy, sitting across from this mysterious man. Abraham said nothing while Edmund Smithson gave an awkward chuckle in response to the neutrality of Hellsing's expression, waving his hand to apologize. "It must be a term for something I am not familiar with. I am, to no offense, more anit-war, especially since the end of the Second Boer War, but it is part of my father's business so I continue it… 'Monsters'… Is it for the defense of Great Britain? A code of some sort- Sir, I am only asking but I do not expect you to answer if you have sworn not to or-"

"Are you familiar with the concept of human's waking from death? Or men who change into beasts with the full moon?"

Silence greeted Van Hellsing's voice, eyes widened and watching the man, stunned or disturbed by what he had said. Dim amusement led Hellsing to wait patiently for his hosts to recover before he gave a slim smile that was meant to do nothing other than humor his inclination to face this situation on multiple occasions upon his own incentive. It was becoming dull, the repetitive responses that were steadily losing their amusement.

The cousin was the first to speak, in a low manner of obvious caution that earned Van Hellsing's eyes. The man was pale and dressed in dark plain clothes that stood out against the common fashion of the time. "You mean to tell us, Sir Hellsing, that our King Edward IIV believes in such _myths_? Are you Sir, by all means excuse this, but it is hard to see you as anything other than…a _con man_ at this stage-"

"Henry!" The pale man's cousin burst out, Edmund's features spaced with despair. But Henry continued, tossing a sharp look to his older cousin and then frowning at Hellsing's cold blue eyes.

"I have already heard plenty about you Sir, that you are breaking off your marriage, that you are indeed a _Catholic_ _immigrant_, a man who in only a decade or less rose from peasantry to Knighthood. And, at seeing your age first hand, it is hard for me to comprehend how quickly such fortune has come to your table. But now you speak of _monsters_? There is no clean and lawful way for a man to come into such fortune and standing, and not even inheritance can excuse you, my _good_ Sir, for your-"

"True, I did not come to where I stand today by 'clean' means, Mr. _Henry_ Smithson."

Silence consumed the spacious room once more, leaving the men and women breathless with apprehension and some means of anger.

"Sir." Pale skin adopted a mean blush when the man choked, his dark eyes large and blinking in amazement.

Then Van Hellsing smiled. It was a smile with strained traces of amusement and more feeling of displeasure that troubled his hosts who were again aware of the man's superior standing. Abraham left no attention to any other face but Henry Smithson's, all of his ill humor going to the man, flustering him badly. "I do not take kindly to such accusations." The voice was controlled, but a frightening malevolence that deepened Van Hellsing's tenor drained the life from the cheeks of his hosts, leaving only his own and the daughter's cheeks with any healthy pallor. "I am no_ con man_, as you so put it. I was never part of any peasantry, as a medical professional well overqualified to be acting as a country doctor-" Hellsing paused for a moment, easing the flame of his temper. With the letters M.D., D. Litt., D. Ph., Oxon, and now KBE as part of the Order of the British Empire, with his name, he did not feel that it was just to have them assume that he was any less than what he had worked to become. He had chosen to work amongst peasants for the source of fresh air that, in theory, was meant to discourage his wife's ailing health. "But, all of that will be overlooked. I am not insulted-" Too much. "-but for my last comment before I return this discussion to our topic… so that I do not lose more time than necessary… I am much older than I appear."

Quiet that easily filled the space left behind by any statement made by Hellsing, returned for a few moments. Henry and Edmund Smithson were caught between questions, doubts, and apologies. Finally Henry gave in with a disconcerted furrow knotting his brow. "How old are you then…Sir Hellsing?"

The flat look of indifference prepared Van Hellsing for any response that might come from the women, whose scheme he had seen through the moment he had spotted the girl with the tight corset and long, elegant skirts of lavender. "I am sixty one years old this year."

A gape easily arrived, mouths filling with the quiet that gushed into the passing seconds.

The woman looked at Hellsing with critical eyes, pursing her lips with what she believed to be the truth of his divorce. If he is indeed of such an age, battling monsters, for goodness sake, monsters…how could any man remain with a withered old woman when he is in the possession of youth? Oh, and such _**fantastic**_ youth at that…but, is he _sane_? That could be to our benefit…or...

Taking advantage of the cooperative quiet, Abraham pulled back one side of the brown coat he had refused to leave with the doorman, absorbing all of the stunned attention his hosts had to offer, their whole beings sucked into each and every movement the mysterious man made. The wife was the first to respond to the sight of the furry wretch that was removed from the silk interior, gasping with an exclamation of rude surprise. Her hand went to her chest when the excitement proved to be a discomfort that shortened her breaths. The girl's eyes widened though she made no sound, staring with the others at the black and brown creature Hellsing held up from the nape of its neck. The animal hung there, seemingly lifeless until one red eye creaked open to view the humans. Hellsing waited, giving more suspense to the moment with his drawn out motion of placing the bat on the table, much to his hostess' dismay. The men leaned forward in their seats, scrutinizing the creature and its unnatural stillness.

"What species of bat is it? I've never seen anything like it before." What does he mean to prove with this? He must think that odd species are monsters! A fool or a con! Nothing but- Henry Smithson's thoughts were cut off.

"Alucard, you may take the seat to my right."

The room chilled with the mortal blood, darkness licking at their vision when the electric lights flickered as they would have if there had been a strong wing and the light had come from unprotected candles. Dust, black like soot, but able to reflect some strands of light, drifted through the air, streaming towards the indicated chair, leaving no sign of the bat behind when the lights calmed. The late Count sat in the chair to his master's right, midnight black worn for his clothing, his coat and vest to his very shoes, black, with only the cascading ribbons, like two rivers of blood, emerging from beneath his collar, tracing down to his vest. The vampire looked at no one, eyes focused on a distance beyond the confines of the walls around him. He looked South-East.

"My dear Lord…" Edmund breathed while his wife hastily crossed herself and then grasped his shirt sleeve with cold, ringed fingers. The man forgot his daughter, but the girl had forgotten him in return and was seeking protection from Abraham's arm, which Hellsing soon reclaimed with a frown of disapproval before glancing at the pale cousin whose lips seemed permanently parted in stony fright. Warmed by the passing touch of humor he gained from this, the noble cast his eyes upon his slave, seeing his features from the side where the other portion was cast in darkness with the brush of black hair that cut his face like a crescent moon.

"I do not believe that any demonstration will be in order."

Startling the human yet again, Hellsing dispersed the vampire's form by passing his hand through the creature's head, pushing the dust that broke from his touch down until only the bat remained on the seat to be taken up by his hand. His audience sat, bewildered and petrified by what they had witnessed, what they believed they had witnessed.

Oh, God. The man…it would have been better if he had lost his mind, but now I do not know if I possess my own. Oh, my God, deliver us from evil. Amen. The humans who were left with the capacity of thought echoed the same words in their minds. The girl's mind was empty, holding only a projected image of the bat, noting the softness of the fur, the smallness, the sheen glancing off of its coat. She pondered, then, how a man could become something so small. Where the others had fear, the protected, simpleminded girl who had never known hunger or jealousy, overcame her surprise to reach curiosity.

"That's a remarkable pet, Sir Hellsing."

The minds of her family agreed with the statement instantly, assuming the same in that split moment, but Van Hellsing turned blinking blue eyes to the girl, setting his mouth at a line. Pet. But the child means no harm by it. My men have repeated the term so many times but hers is different. Abraham made no changes to his features once they had fallen flat, and his fingers held the bat firmly by the nape of its neck, as he had held it before. "It is more of a servant than a pet. …Do you recognize the word, 'vampire'?"

Honey colored eyes framed by long lashes, gazed at the man and then were distracted by the bat when the girl saw that the red eyes had opened and were turned to her. She smiled, delighted by the attention she was receiving from both Sir Hellsing and his 'vampire'. "Oh, it's looking at me! Sir Hellsing, do you want my father's metal to make guns so you can capture more of these 'vampire' creatures? I almost feel like I want one now. It's so darling and small. It could fit in a pocket."

The girl is either brave or a helpless fool. More likely the latter. Hellsing preserved his flat, blank expression and then placed the bat on the tablecloth. The wife had no reaction for the motion. "My dear," The females' eyes brightened at the phrase, with both hope and delight. "…if I were to leave you with this Vampire, what do you imagine would happen?"

Will he give it to me? White gloves clasped one another and the color on the girl's face deepened. "I would buy it a gilded cage with a saucer for food and teach it to fly in the aviary with the birds. And if it turned into a man, oh, then I'm not quite sure." She blushed at the indecent notion. The bat made a beautiful man. "But when it is small it would be such fun to brush it, almost like a kitten. It is so much fun thinking about it, Sir Hellsing! What do 'vampires' eat? Are they good, obedient pets or must they be tamed?"

Hellsing's mouth cracked a wry smile that the girl received with a bright, cheerful grin. He will most certainly give me a 'vampire' now! He must! He sees how much I adore the thought. Father will buy one for me. I am certain of it. Or I will have as many as I want when I marry Sir Hellsing.

"Vampires are monsters."

The girl kept the smile. "Then they are wonderful monsters, Sir."

Dark, perverse humor altered Van Hellsing's aura, instilling unease in the humans around him. He smiled, a reserved display of irony and twisted mirth.

"Vampires feed on living human flesh and blood, favoring young virgins opposite to their basic gender. As for obedience, when they are not chewing on your servants they are trying to kill you." Abraham smiled congenially, satisfied by the vacancy that came to the honey eyes. The girl stared at him and then looked at the bat with a quivering frown.

"You're joking. Don't tease me. I won't stand for this teasing, Sir Hellsing. It's mean."

Abraham's humor slowly dispersed and he grimaced, giving up on the girl and losing his reserve of patience for the situation. The man slipped his vampire into his coat and stood, surprising his hosts who stood also, giving empty apologies while they struggled to find how they had pushed the man to leave. They asked him to stay, the women remaining at the table when the men strode after Van Hellsing into the hallway beyond the door.

Hellsing spoke stiffly without stopping, though his pace slowed. "Henry Smithson, your possession of the ore, and Edmund Smithson, your possession of the product and ships I would like to use, is the only reason I am here in person. I had hoped to present you with an attractive business opportunity."

The men winced with worry. Edmund cleared his throat, shuffling after the tall noble. "Do you mean…you no longer-?"

"No. Hellsing will seek your services, only do not expect to deal with me in person. I have men who will see you. This was a very uncommon visit. That is all, and goodnight gentlemen."

With that Van Hellsing was leaving the manor with a servant scrambling after him to see the man to his awaiting carriage, leaving the Smithsons standing mutely in the entrance, looking on as Hellsing entered his carriage and left them, leaving them as if they had been a passing whim.

*~*~::..+..::~*~*

Irritated blue stared at the dark cabin of the carriage, a stern frown on his lips while his brows were flat with concentration. He had tired of subjecting himself to their company. There had been no need to even meet with the Smithsons, but they had been in a section of London that was close to his old friends, so he had gone with the idea of visiting his friends afterwards. Now it was later than he had wanted when the carriage stopped and he once again hit the ground with his boots. Hellsing left his cane and coat in the carriage, daring his servant to test him in his sour mood before shutting the door himself. He brushed away his temper, making himself calm and even feel cheer when his hand lifted the knocker on the door.

Jonathon Harker opened the door and greeted the man himself, leading Van Hellsing into his house with a smile that showed some regret when he had to explain that Mina had just gone to check on Quincy. The boy was already in bed, but the adult Harkers were glad to entertain the noble for an hour before he left. By then it was quite late. Though the driver had possessed enough sense not to doze off, the cold had stiffened his limbs so the man had to rub them furiously to thaw himself before he could take the reins and lead them onward. Hellsing would travel through most of the night now to reach the boarder of Wales, where he would stop at another nobleman's house, one who he knew only through a conversation where the man had told him of relatives who had fallen victim to vampire attacks. Hellsing was given a room and his horses were led to a stable. The driver was provided with a room beside Abraham's.

Out of a rise of bitterness and the recollection of past misbehavior, Van Hellsing paused long enough to stuff an unwilling bat into one of his boots, fighting flapping wings until they gave. His socks were used to force the creature to stay near the toes, having to push down the snout that resisted long enough for a breath of clear air. Alucard hated the boot. It was damp and smelled of polish and his master's foot odor, and it was cramped. He would not breathe or open his eyes through the course of the night and morning while Van Hellsing slept like a dead man, too exhausted to accept the breakfast that was offered in the morning. He slept until noon and then departed without accepting any food, but gave his thanks for the room and the food that had been given to his driver and the horses.


End file.
